Do Not Go Gently into that Good Night
by undercover.martyn
Summary: Because you don't win wars with the Reapers. You just survive them.


**Because you don't win wars with the Reapers. You just survive them. **

**Shepard stopped Sovereign. She stopped the Collectors. She cured the genophage and she ended the quarian-geth war. But the Catalyst is a step beyond. A paragon Shepherd facing the fallout of the Destroy ending, through the eyes of her turian.**

* * *

_2187 _

She's always had nightmares. Back on the Normandy she used to jerk awake, hands flying to her throat as she stared up at that damned skylight. Some nights she would want to talk about it, in a steady, honest voice as he ran his hands through her hair. Most nights she would not – but that was fine too, because she would always curl back into his side, and they could both take comfort in each others' stuttering heartbeats.

Now it is different. Now when she wakes up she flings herself away from him, slinging her feet around to sit on the edge of the bed, short hair slipping down to hide her face. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, but she tenses as the bed creaks and he stops. For a moment the silence settles on them and then she abruptly stands and leaves the room. Garrus doesn't move until the front door crashes open, and even then it is only to the window, to watch as Shepard storms out into the night. Her feet are bare as she moves through mud and leaves, but that doesn't stop her from firing her gun. She keeps firing, even when all the branches are shot off the surrounding trees, even as the ground around her is littered with spent thermal clips.

Garrus does nothing but watch; he leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes against the suffocating distance between them.

x

The cheers escalate as Hackett steps up to the podium, and it is a few minutes before his low, gravelly voice is heard over the microphone. It's a sound which once reassured Garrus, but since that day...since that order...there's an unfair bubble of resentment in his veins which he just can't will away.

Hidden in the wings Shepard glances away from the stage, up to his face. Garrus smiles at her as he buttons up the jacket of her Alliance Blues. It hadn't been first priority – replacing her amputated hand – and all the best work of the decimated Alliance forces couldn't match her Cerebus' cybernetics. It had taken them a few months before they'd fitted her a bionic hand, and it was one cobbled together from the few and rare resources available. It functions, but sometimes not as fast as the rest of her, especially when she is as nervous as she is today.

As long as necessary, Garrus will be her hands.

'Looking forward to this, Shepard?' he asks as he finishes her top button. He traces the slight white scars of her neck.

'Not really. You think they're finally going to promote me?' she asks weakly, a shadow of her old smirk on her pale face.

'You're just bitter because I outrank you,' Garrus chuckles, running his hands through her uneven hair. When he'd first found her in the Alliance infirmary camp on the recovering Earth, he'd keened low in his throat at the sight of her burnt scalp and the ragged remains of her hair. Such a silly think to mourn. But her hair had always fascinated him. Kept tucked away when he first met her, it was nothing. Just another oddity of humans. Then she began to wear it long after she was reborn. Garrus remembers how he was struck by the way it would catch in the light, the way small frames would catch around her face after a tough fight. And then, when they became something more, he would spend hours running his talons through it, realizing that she was more than just his commander, more than just a leader. She was Shepard, and not a uniform.

That's why he had mourned. But now it is growing back, slowly, and for Garrus it is the best sign of hope that she is not lost, and will come back to him when she can.

'Spectre ranking gives me trumps, Vakarian,' she replies, eyebrow quirked slightly. She's always had such an expressive face, and Garrus thinks he could spend years trying to read all her little inflections.

'Come on, you love it when I take charge,' he whispers, pushing their foreheads together. She lets in a slight, shuddered breath in the air between them, and –

Hackett has announced her, and the sound is thunderous, as if to shake the very building apart. She immediately stiffens in his arms, and he fights the urge to curse. No matter how many steps they take, he can still lose her in an instant.

'I suppose I should get going,' she murmurs, pulling away from his grip. Her head is bowed.

There was once a time when Shepard would bend to no one. She was a mountain, a will unto her own. Whenever she looks at the ground Garrus feels all their weakness choke them at once. 'You're a goddamn hero to these people, Shepard,' he tells her, even as she steps around him. 'You're their saviour.'

She has that look on her face again, that far off expression which is a million miles away from him, from the Alliance headquarters they're standing him. _She's back on the Citadel_. It makes him want to shake her, to bring her back to the present and away from the past she has trapped herself in. 'Then they know nothing,' she finally says, in a small, odd voice. She steps out onto the stage.

The crowd erupts.

x

_2188_

The scream rips out of him. '_Shepard, move!_'

She does, but too late, and the butt of the mercenary's gun slams into her face. She is flung to the ground, but Garrus has already lined up his shot and blasts the bastard through the head. He has no time to savour the victory, leaping over the stacked crates to get to her. She is already standing, placing a hand tentatively to her face. It comes away bloody.

He knows he needs to be patient; he knows fighting will solve nothing. But it's been building like a terrible, icy storm for weeks, and he can't temper his rage as he bites out, 'What the _hell _was that?'

She turns away to spit red on the warehouse floor. 'What are you talking about?'

Her nonchalance makes it worse. 'Charging three mercenaries when your shields are down and without a thermal clip – that is what I'm talking about,' he growls, ducking his head in an attempt to look her in the eye. She refuses to face him. 'It's not tactics, it's not clever, it's just stupid, and you're going to get yourself hurt.'

Now she does glance up, eyes burning. 'The job's done isn't it?' she snaps, and she leaves the warehouse without another word.

Garrus is left with only his anger; it's hollow, and most certainly not enough. He viciously kicks the body of the last mercenary before he follows after her.

x

_2189_

It's the first meeting of the Normandy crew in nearly a year. Like seeds scattered to the wind they've grown, found new roots and homes. But there's still a longing, a yearning, to try and recapture what was.

Garrus is anxious – the kind of nervousness that creeps under your skin like an itch. A nervousness he can't fix with a gun and leads to an explosive argument between himself and Shepard. She is silent now, staring out the window to gaze at Rannoch's landscape. The decision to meet here – in Tali's recently finished home – seemed easy to the others, but it feels him with a kind of dread, and a fierce protectiveness to try and keep Shepard from the memories that tug at still tender wounds.

She tried to explain to him once – in one of those few, precious times in which she has actually spoken, in which she has actually explained where she disappears within her mind. She confessed that she felt she had betrayed Legion's sacrifice. He had tried to comfort her, said that Legion – all the Geth – would have understood, would have known the necessity. But she had pulled away from him, frustration spiking hot tears she refused to spill in the corners of her eyes. _I know it doesn't make any sense – I know it had to be done, but that doesn't make it easier, doesn't make it easier to come to terms with. You can't possibly understand – _

And he couldn't. He couldn't understand the weight of all those decisions, those sacrifices which she had had to make. Nobody did, because they had left those choices to her, backed away and continued to pile up the burdens on her broken back. And now she – and she alone – has to live with them.

He parks the car. Neither of them make any attempt to move. In the distance Garrus can make out Tali's house. It is simple, but beautiful. Garrus wonders it has lived up to the vision, the dream that Tali has been crafting all her life.

Because the victory was nothing any of them envisioned.

'Shall we go in?' he asks Shepard, and she nods, moving from the car. As they begin the climb, her hand slips into his.

x

_2190_

It's Kaidan who sends him the message.

_Joker's back. He's looking for her._

For a small moment Garrus feels a sudden, vicious stab of resentment. It dissipates quickly as he remembers his friend – the edge to his voice which meant a joke was coming, his ridiculous cap they used to hide...the odd blankness on his face when they put EDI in the ground. He has missed him – more than he would even admit – but the news of his resurfacing causes a scratching panic to bubble up in his throat.

No one has seen or heard from Joker for the last two and a half years, not since they were returned from the planet they had crashed on. And a small, selfish part of Garrus has been glad of it, glad for Shepard. She hasn't seen Joker, not since that last day on Earth, and Garrus knows – like he knows that the stars will go on forever and that the sun will rise tomorrow – that if anyone has the ability to destroy the progress she has made, it is the human who was with Shepard for every single step of their twisted journey.

Garrus puts his omintool down and stares at the wall in front of him. Today, they had been to the beach. She had convinced him to try the human food ice cream – and then laughed at the face he had made. He would have eaten an entire barrel – and all every allergic reaction – to hear her laugh like that again. She also convinced him to stand along the shoreline, as she danced further into the sea. He refused to follow after her – he was already being quite brave for a turian – but watched with an unfamiliar contentedness as she moved through the waves. When she'd come back to him, wet hair stuck to her forehead and an unpractised smile on her face, he had been caught in a swift and breathless happiness. They'd kissed on the pier, and walked for hours, talking about all the places they wanted to travel to, and all the stars they hoped to revisit.

She was – for a day – his Shepard once again, and he is quite certain this news will take her from him.

His head is still in his hands when she enters their bedroom, rifling through some assignment reports. 'So I've been looking at this Alliance assignment, and was thinking we'd need to stop into the Citadel at some point to –' she stops when she finally sees him. 'Garrus? Garrus, what's wrong?'

For a wild moment he thinks that he could try to hide Joker's return from her. Bury it, like they have her past, and refuse to let it rise up against them. But it's a half formed, mad little thought. And he knows that if he continues to protect Shepard in this way, if he tries to take her from the galaxy he saved, she'll stop being the person he fell in love with.

_She's lost to me either way._

Garrus takes in a long breath and swears, viciously, in his mind. 'We need to talk.' He doesn't look at her.

x

Joker is already at the table when they enter the cafe in the Presidium. He's thinner than he was two years ago, almost gaunt, as if several decades have rushed upon him at once Shepard's grip on his hand tightens – if he were human, he thinks it might be broken – but she continues to walk forward, brisk and sharp, a marine in all ways.

'Joker,' she says, voice measured. It's her commander voice, not Shepard's, but it's a start. It's contact.

Garrus sees Joker gulp once; he opens his mouth, but makes no sound. Garrus wonders how long it has been since he's spoken with anyone – he had found out about his father and sister just before they returned to Earth. After that he never said a word.

They stand, pillars of salt, waiting.

When he finally manages it is a dusty, broken sound. 'Shepard.' He turns his head slightly and nods, the brim of his hat shadowing his face. 'Garrus.'

They sit down.

Joker coughs. They all tense slightly at the sound. 'You look good,' he finally offers, gesturing slightly at Shepard. 'It's weird seeing you in civies.'

She smiles. It's wobbly. 'Thanks. You...look good too.'

He exhales nosily, in a sound that once might have been a laugh. 'You've always been a shit liar. I know I look like a Vorcha.' He can't keep his gaze on them – it drops to the table, where he is scratching letters with blunted nails. 'He looking after you?' he finally says, inclining his head towards Garrus. Who suddenly feels that this is a conversation he is not really meant to be part of.

'Yeah,' Shepard answers. Her voice is a little wet. She reaches out and grips Garrus' hand with her bionic one; he entwines her small, stiff fingers in his talons. 'He is.'

Joker nods. 'I'm glad. I really am. Glad that you're happy.' He finally looks up at them, finally looks them in the eyes. 'Shepard–'

The waitress arrives. She's an asari, with pretty features and a wide smile. And Garrus is instantly desperate for her to leave before she breaks this fragile thing flowering between them.

'Welcome! I hope you're all having a good time on the Citadel today; my name is Alia T'Sandri and I will be your server.' She stops, as if suddenly aware of the atmosphere she has dispersed. 'Oops! Are some people feeling a little blue today?' She giggles and the sound grates. 'That was just a joke.'

Garrus actually closes his eyes.

They're not coping. They're not coping at all – they're all just hiding, just cloaking what they feel in layers of fake smiles and a desperation for a normality which they know is beyond them. All Garrus know is he loves Shepard. But the silence, the aching emptiness resonating from the seat beside him – so ragged that the waitress actually apologizes and retreats – reminds Garrus that she's still trapped somewhere far away from him.

Shepard stands. Joker is staring, unseeingly at the ground. He's bone white and looks as if he might vomit. 'Excuse me,' she says, and she is gone from the table. Most people would run, Garrus thinks with a strange detachment, run as fast as possible from all the hurt, the guilt. Not Shepard. She walks steadily, as if with purpose – as if this was all planned and she knows exactly where she is going.

As if she is not lost.

She exits the restaurant; Garrus knows better than to try and follow her. She's never played games – if she leaves it is because she needs the distance, and he has to respect that. He would not find his Shepard anyway. He would find ice and stone, a blank face and an empty voice. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, watching her go and knowing he can do nothing to help her. They've always been a team – Shepard and Vakarian – but this is something she insists on carving through alone. He can do nothing but hover behind her and hope she'll let him carry her part of the way.

Joker lumbers to his feet; he's moving, but he's still not shaken off the paralysis that seems to have crept into his bones. His eyes follow after Shepard, and for a moment he looks like a small child. His eyes are bright in a way which Garrus has learnt mean tears. 'I think this was a mistake,' Joker says, slowly, as if the words are acting outside of his control.

Garrus nods and rises as well. Tentatively, he extends his hand to Joker, and is slightly shocked when the pilot takes it, with a sudden strength Garrus would have thought beyond him. 'Can you tell her – ' Joker starts, and then stops. He tugs at his cap with his free hand, pulling it to cover his lost eyes. Garrus wonders how this man before him had ever laughed, ever smiled. 'Just tell her I miss her ok? I don't blame her, and I miss her.'

He moves to leave. His limp is worse than ever and Garrus watches every agonizing step of his leaving.

'I miss her too,' he murmurs to himself. Then he throws some credits down on the table, and goes back to Shepard's apartment to wait.


End file.
